


Greeting Card

by shieldivarius



Series: Femslash Yuletide 2014 [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Gen, Prompt: Greeting Card
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone had sent Natasha a Christmas card. An actual Christmas card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greeting Card

**Author's Note:**

> All of the Melinda/Natasha stories in this year's Femslash Yuletide are in the same universe and chronological unless stated otherwise!

It didn’t say anything good about how Melinda viewed Natasha and her handling of interpersonal relationships that the Christmas card lying on the coffee table surprised her. Surprised her so much that her gaze had been drawn to it, with its cheery, red and green wreath on the front, as soon as she’d entered the apartment. 

Unfortunately—perhaps knowing that Melinda would be curious about it—Natasha had put a bowl on top of the card, obstructing it and making it clear she didn’t want anyone peeking inside to see who had sent it. Kind of a pity, since the wreath was blazoned with an amazingly generic _Happy Holidays_ , and Melinda wanted to see if the inside was a bit more personalized. After all, the sender was apparently close enough to Natasha that she’d kept the card hanging around instead of tossing it into the garbage at the first opportunity.

Barton had probably sent it, and Natasha kept it around for a laugh. That would be the extent of the story behind the card. 

Still…

Melinda lifted the bottom corner a little, not as far as the bowl allowed, but just far enough to see if the sender had signed near enough to the edge for Melinda to read the name. 

They hadn’t, and she let it fall back flat. She shouldn’t be snooping anyway, but wasn’t it funny that Natasha had left the card out in the open instead of hiding it away in a drawer? That lent credence to the theory that she’d kept it for a laugh, anyway. Anything of sentiment—anything, for that matter, that showed Natasha capable of _expressing_ sentiment—would be hidden away lest someone snoop around and learn anything. Natasha was very, very careful that way.

“I was thinking,” Natasha said, coming back into the room from the kitchen with two glasses of wine in hand. Melinda reclined back into the couch and accepted one of the glasses, passing her gaze up and down Natasha and looking for any hint that she might be uncomfortable about not having put the card away.

Natasha, though, didn’t seem to be thinking about it at all, and maybe Melinda had become a little obsessed with theories about the thing. But it wasn’t at all like Natasha, both wired and trained to think like a spy all the time, to keep something so personal out in the open. If it, indeed, was something personal.

“Thinking?” Melinda prompted.

“About this holiday-themed trouble.” She looked annoyed, a crease to her brow, and Melinda shrugged.

“Think about it at work,” she suggested and took a sip of wine.

“It has to be part of something bigger,” she continued, like she hadn’t heard Melinda at all. 

Natasha grabbed a pen up off of the table, looking thoughtful, and then glanced around quickly before moving the bowl from atop the card and flipping it over to the white space on the back. With a crease to her brow, she started jotting things down. Upside down, Melinda read _dog with antlers; santa claus; tree display (?)._

“An Advent themed rash of mischief?” Melinda asked.

“’Tis the season,” Natasha said. 

In the kitchen, the oven beeped. Natasha stood and returned to the kitchen to check on dinner—reheating a precooked, purchased meal, of course; Natasha wasn’t the greatest cook—and Melinda leaned over and grabbed the freed card.

She shouldn’t be snooping, she reminded herself again. And yet, Natasha was using it as scrap paper and didn’t seem to care if Melinda saw the card.

She flipped it open.

There was very little writing on the inside, leaving it as impersonal as the generic greeting on the cover. But the signature made her roll her eyes and laugh a little. Of course. Barton wouldn’t send a Christmas card. He wouldn’t even think of sending a Christmas card, not to Natasha, not to anyone.

But if the sender of this card was going to send a Christmas card to _anyone_ , it would be Natasha Romanoff. 

Melinda would never have believed it if she wasn’t holding the proof in her hands, and yet in bold, black ink in front of her…

_Natasha,_

_Merry Christmas._

_Nick_

**Author's Note:**

> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
